


maybe one day you'll call me (and tell me that you're sorry too)

by yvessaintlourry



Category: One Direction
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Blowjobs, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Anxiety, Niall and Harry live together, Non-Famous AU, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Teacher Louis, Wedding Planner AU, Wedding Planner Harry, as i say literally every time i post a fic im bad at tags, don't read for the smut its not worth it, harry and louis dated years ago, harry loves Louis, harry never really got over him, harry's the wedding planner, larry stylinson - Freeform, liams the best man, louis cheats on luke, louis left him, louis's engaged to luke, luke finds them a wedding planner, proposal, the whole thing is rushed but you should read it anyways, they drink a lot of wine, they get high
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 13:34:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yvessaintlourry/pseuds/yvessaintlourry
Summary: The one where Louis really should have double-checked his fiance's choice of a wedding planner.No turning back now.





	maybe one day you'll call me (and tell me that you're sorry too)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mess, but it's not the worst thing I've ever written. I wrote a het fic with I was like 13, can you believe-  
> Feel free to follow me on twitter @lwtbruises !!!

_The first thought Harry has when his eyes open to meet the sunlight shining into his bedroom is_ today’s the day _. The day Harry has been preparing for for basically 6 months now. A grin takes over his face when he thinks about dropping down onto one knee in front of the boy he knows he’s meant to spend the rest of his life with. The smile reaches his eyes._

_He can’t scramble out of bed fast enough to begin the rest of his life._

 

_They’ve been together for almost 6 years now, him and Louis. Harry still melts every time he looks into his eyes, and his skin still tingles when Louis touches it. Harry always wonders what he did to deserve someone as wonderful as Louis, inside and out, and he’s so glad he won’t have to know life without him ever again._

_Harry takes Louis through his favorite trail hours later, rose petals on the ground leading them to the bridge that curves over the stream._

_Harry’s too excited to notice Louis chewing on his nails, stuttering over his words, and biting at the skin of his_ beautiful red _lips. All of his nervous ticks._

_The bridge is lined with hundreds of small white candles, all lit, courtesy of Harry’s future best man, Niall._

_“What is this?” Louis asks, and Harry doesn’t see the sheer fear in his eyes._

_Harry grins at Louis as he stops them on the bridge, looking into his big, beautiful blue eyes. “Louis.” He grabs his hands in his._ There are the tingles _. “I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. Even if it was at the urinals of a The Script concert,” he laughs. He doesn’t notice Louis’s nervous glances. “That was almost six years ago now. I’ve loved you since I was 16, I still love you now, and I’ll love you when we’re both bald and wrinkly, even if all we can do is sit in rocking chairs on our front porch.” He reaches into his coat pocket and feels the box that’s dying to be opened. “Being with you has been the most exhilarating ride of my life. You helped me conquer my fears. You’ve helped me through some of the most difficult times of my life, and been the reason for some of the best. You make me strong, Louis.” Harry bites his lip, preparing himself to get down on his knee. “And that’s why-“_

_“I think we should break up,” Louis blurts, interrupting Harry’s speech._

_Harry stares at him in shock, wide-eyed and his fingers still grazing the velvet box in his coat pocket. He swallows. “What?” Harry’s world starts to spin as it crashes down around him._

_Louis’s eyes fill with tears, but he looks away, avoiding Harry’s gaze. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, taking slow steps back towards the exit._  
_“Louis,” Harry breathes, taking a step towards him, but Louis puts his hand in front of himself, telling Harry to stop._

 _“I’m_ so _sorry, Harry,” he chokes out._

_Harry can feel himself beginning to panic, his breaths becoming quicker and heavier in his chest. “Louis, please, can we just talk about this?”_

_Louis doesn’t say another word, turning around on his feet and hurrying out of the trail._

_Harry calls him continuously over the next month, Louis never answering him even once. He must have left him hours upon hours of voicemails. Hundreds of texts. That is, until-_

I’m sorry. The number you are trying to reach is no longer available.

_That was that. Harry cries himself to sleep for months._

///

 

Louis looks down at the stack of papers he has to grade and sighs audibly, wanting to shrivel up into a ball and die there so he doesn’t have to read 100 sub-par dramatic monologues. He could really go for a distraction right now.

“Hey, Lou?” a familiar voice calls, the sound of a door closing ringing behind him. Louis smiles at that. A distraction!

Louis stands up from his desk and trots out to his and his fiancé, Luke’s, living room, planting a kiss on his lips as a greeting. “Hey, babe.” Luke finishes typing up an email on his work phone before making eye contact with Louis for the first time all day. “How was work?” Louis asks, throwing his arms around Luke’s neck.

“It was the same as usual. Got a new client. He’s kind of a dick.”

“What did he do?” Louis asks.

“Another sexual harassment case,” Luke shrugs.

Louis furrows his eyebrows. “You’re _defending_  a predator? Are you kidding me, Luke?”

“It’s part of the job, babe. Business is business. How else am I supposed to afford to throw you a luxurious wedding?”

“Defend the person he harassed, maybe?” Louis rolls his eyes.

Luke ignores his comment, changing the subject. “I found the perfect wedding planner, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah?” Louis responds, surprised that his fiancé actually took the time to look into that for him. “What’s his name?”

Luke shrugs. “Henry? Or something, I don’t know. Sarah at the office recommended him. He does great work.”

“Sounds great, love,” Louis smiles. “When are we meeting him?”

“Um,” Luke ponders, finding the texts him and Henry had sent to each other. “Saturday at noon at his office.”

Louis nods. “Perfect. Will give me time to finish grading these monologues,” he rolls his eyes.

Luke finally puts his phone down and purses his lips. “Or,” he bites his lip, raising his eyebrows in question. “We could go upstairs for a bit before I have to take that Skype meeting at 7.”

Louis wriggles his eyebrows. “Lead the way, Fiancé.”

 

///

 

Driving up to the office building on Saturday, Louis’s surprised at how nice the building actually is. He’s not sure what he was expecting from a wedding planner’s office, but it definitely wasn’t this. Of course, if what Luke had said about how good Henry is at his job is true, then Louis’s sure he must be extremely successful.

“Hey, um,” Louis speaks. “Exactly how much is this bloke costing us?”

Luke smiles that smug smile of his that only annoys Louis _a little bit._  “Only the best for you, love.” Louis shakes his head at that, opening the door of Luke’s car and stepping onto the concrete below.

Stepping out of the elevator onto the 14th floor of the building has Louis feeling all kinds of unlucky, and he can’t figure out why.

“I’ll check us in with the receptionist, alright, babe?” Luke suggests, and Louis nods.

He walks over to the classy pink waiting area and sits, resting his right ankle on his left knee. He picks up one of the many bridal magazines on the table in front of him and begins flipping through it, ignoring the eerily familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He looks around. He’s definitely never set foot in this building before, so what is it about this place that has him in this funk?

He glances up at Luke talking to the woman at the reception desk and almost misses the framed picture on the wall behind her. He does a double take and squints his eyes at the familiar home in the picture. A home that looks suspiciously like a certain boy’s home in Holmes Chapel that he used to visit regularly for holidays. _What the fuck?_  He looks to his right and sees a certain boy’s favorite flowers in a vase next to him and looks to his left to see a pair of familiar ceramic doves that make Louis’s heart go into overdrive. _They look just like the_ ones _that Louis’s mother gave to him and-_

Louis’s heart thumps loudly in his chest as the thought of what may or may not be happening right now runs through his mind. He slowly raises himself off of the pink cushion and strides quickly over to Luke.

“Luke, we have to leave right now,” he mumbles to his fiancé.

Luke chuckles. “What? Why? Are you nervous?” he coos, and Louis thinks twice about punching him.

“No, it’s just, we-“

“Mr. Malak?” an extremely familiar, _extremely vomit-ensuing_  voice says from behind Luke. Louis doesn’t dare look past him. He thinks he might actually faint at any moment. _Dear god._

“Yes, hi!” Luke greets enthusiastically, holding his hand out to the one person Louis never expected to see again. “You can call me Luke.”

The man that Louis left almost five years ago now. The love of his life.

“I’m Harry,” he says. Louis’s heart clenches at his name. “Harry Styles.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry,” Luke says, polite as ever. “This is my fiancé,” he introduces, moving to the side so that he’s visible to Harry’s eye. “Louis.”

Louis looks up for the first time, just in time to see Harry’s entire face drop. Louis breathes deeply, staring at the face of the man whose heart he knows he shattered, not knowing what else he could possibly do or say at this moment.

Harry’s jaw clenches painfully and swallows the air in his throat, before taking a deep breath and planting an obviously fake smile on his face. _Obvious to Louis, at least._  He holds his hand out to Louis. “Nice to meet you.”

Louis pauses in surprise at that, but quickly regains his composure, flashing him a tight-lipped smile and shaking the hand he was offered. “You too.”

Harry clears his throat awkwardly, motioning behind him. “If you would just follow me to my office, we can discuss the basics of your, um,” he pauses, glancing at Louis, but keeping most of his focus on Luke. “wedding.”

“Of course!” Luke replies. “After you.” He puts his hand behind Louis’s back to lead him behind Harry, and Louis sees Harry’s gaze follow his arm before he leads them down the hall.

Harry and Luke discuss their wedding needs and wants, but all Louis can seem to do is think about how much Harry has changed in the past five years.

His hair is shorter now, no longer reaching his shoulders. He probably can’t even tie it up in a bun anymore. He’s more muscular. _Or maybe his suit just fits better._  Harry turns to the side, motioning to something for Luke to bring his attention to, and _nope, nope, he’s definitely more muscular now._

 _“Babe? Babe?”_  He feels someone shaking his arm and quickly realizes that he’s been zoned out this entire time.

“What?” he says, startled, sitting up in his seat.

“Does that sound alright to you?” Luke asks, and Louis can either admit he wasn’t listening or just bite the bullet and go with whatever just happened.

He chooses the latter. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great.”

Harry raises his eyebrows at him, biting his lip in surprise and/or amusement. He definitely knows Louis didn’t hear a word they said.

“Great!” Luke claps his hands together. “So we’ll see you at your place on Wednesday, then.”

Louis wants to die.

“Perfect,” Harry says, his smile tight-lipped and uncomfortable. He stands up. “I’ll see you two Wednesday.” He shakes both of their hands, avoiding eye-contact with Louis the entire time. “Bye, Luke,” Harry nods. He swallows the air in his throat. “Louis.”

Louis responds with an awkward smile before Luke leads him away with his hand resting on the small of his back.

Louis turns around once they’re halfway down the hall and sees Harry sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. He frowns, but says nothing, exiting the building as quickly as he can.

 

 _How dare he. How dare he. How dare he_  is all Harry can think for the rest of the day. _How dare he walk in here after five years of silence and expect Harry to plan his fucking wedding._

It’s been five fucking years, and Harry _still_  felt tingles when Louis _fucking_  Tomlinson walked back into his life in the worst way possible and shook his hand.

Harry should have turned them away the second he saw Louis’s face. His annoying, backstabbing, _beautiful, wonderful, perfect_ , idiotic face that has Harry crying on his couch eating chocolate and popcorn for the first time in two and a half years. All over a bloke that broke his heart and left him standing alone on a bridge with a ring in his pocket and empty promises in his heart.

He sees Niall walk into the living room and quickly wipes his tears away, sitting up straighter and clearing his throat to clear the mucus out. “Hey, Ni.”

Niall furrows his eyebrows at his flatmate. “Are you crying?”

“I’m just, uh,” he says, motioning to the television. “watching The Notebook again.”

The Irishman rolls his eyes fondly, shaking his head. “You’d think after the thousandth time reliving that movie, you’d be used to it by now.”

Harry fakes a chuckle, his words ringing way too true to him. “You’d think.”

 

///

 

If Harry’s going to be working with _Louis fucking Tomlinson_  of all people, he knows he needs to just do his job like he usually would and ignore the stabbing pain in his gut that he gets every time he sees him.

He watches as Luke takes Louis’s hand in his, putting it in his own lap, ignoring the twinge of pain in his chest. “Every time I plan a wedding, I like to get to know my clients and their relationship so that I can make it as personal to them as possible, so,” Harry trails off, avoiding Louis’s eyes. He sighs. “Let’s get started, yeah?”

They nod, Luke’s smile wider than Louis’s.

Harry clears his throat. “So,” he begins. “How did you meet?”

“I used to bartend to make ends meet while I was still trying to make a name for myself,” Luke explains. He nudges Louis. “This one came into the pub and was a little too pissed to keep his thoughts to himself,” he chuckles. _God, please don’t-_  “Told me he wouldn’t mind if I took him to the back room. Gave him my number instead.” Harry glances at Louis, and he looks like he’s about to vomit. Harry’s not too far behind.

“Adorable,” Harry lies, faking a smile. “How long have you been together?”

“A little over four years,” Luke answers. Harry’s heart stops momentarily. “Officially, at least. We dated casually for a few months before that.”

 _Louis and Harry broke up five years ago, and he’s been with this bloke for four and a half?_  Harry’s nauseous. _While Harry was crying his eyes out and begging for morphine, Louis was fucking some other bloke without a care in the world. Fantastic._

“Tell me about the proposal,” Harry says, his jaw clenched.

“Well, I-“ Luke stops himself, turning to Louis. “Actually, babe, I feel like I’m talking too much, why don’t you answer this one?”

Louis’s lips press tightly together, and he nods, glancing at Harry. Harry’s palms are sweating. _Ignore the pain, ignore the pain, ignore the pain._  “He, um, he took me on a picnic in some meadow outside the city and halfway through the meal, a helicopter flew down and picked us up,” he explains, avoiding eye contact. “Was a big surprise,” he mumbles, chuckling nervously. “Anyway, it flew us over, you know, everything, and he just,” Louis pauses. “Yeah.”

“He left out some key aspects of the story that make it much cuter, but yeah, that was basically it,” Luke laughs.

Harry nods and makes a note: _helicopter proposal = pretentious._

Louis bites his lip, and Harry wants to leave.

He carries on with the questions, wanting to run away and never return the entire time. He doesn’t. He learns more than he ever wanted to know. Too much, in fact.

When the couple leaves an hour later, Harry has to blink away tears threatening to fall. _No crying,_  he thinks. _It’s been five years, and there will be absolutely no crying over him anymore._

 

///

 

Louis’s incredibly uncomfortable with the situation that’s about to take place. He tries to drown his sorrows with a cigarette as he drives down the road, nearing Harry’s flat. It’s a different flat than he lived in way back when, which makes Louis feel a little bit better. At least he won’t have to relive all of those memories at once.

He steps out of his car, smothering his fag out onto the concrete and flicking it away from himself, stepping on it for good measure.

He knocks on the door and waits, anxiously fidgeting up and down on his feet.

Harry opens the door, and Louis immediately gives him a sheepish smile, his teeth showing. He makes the face he always would when Louis would come over smelling like cigarettes but doesn’t go on his usual rant about how _those things will kill you._

Harry furrows his eyebrows. “Where’s Luke?’

“He had a work emergency,” Louis answers. It was true. Something happened with a client’s paperwork, and Louis didn’t listen past that when Luke was explaining why he was going to have to show up at Harry’s flat _alone_.

Harry looks him up and down quickly, biting the inside of his cheek. “Right,” he mumbles slowly. “Come in.” He opens the door wider and Louis hesitantly steps foot into Harry’s flat, looking around at how much his decor style had changed over the past few years.

“Nice flat,” Louis compliments. Harry nods a thanks in reply. “You still have that painting that our mums made together in that art class,” Louis chuckles, admiring the acrylic art.

Harry flashes him a tight-lipped smile. “So, I’ve found a few places you might like according to your preferences.” Louis frowns at the avoidance of his comment. He sits down on the couch and motions for Louis to do the same. Louis sits on the opposite side of the couch, as far away from Harry as he can.

Just then, the doorknob jiggles.

“You have a flatmate?” Louis asks.  
Harry nods, looking through his stack of papers quickly to get them in order. “Niall.”

Louis tenses at that, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

“Hey, lad,” Niall greets happily, whistling as he walks in, throwing his wallet and keys on the dresser near the front door. He kicks off his shoes at the doorway, before turning around. His eyes meet Louis’s frame, and Louis can see a trail of surprise, confusion, and anger soar through his eyes. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Niall growls, looking at Harry but motioning to Louis. Louis’s honestly surprised Harry didn’t automatically rant to Niall about the situation the day it happened.

Louis sinks into his spot on the couch, folding his arms in front of himself and wishing to disappear.

Harry sighs. “I’m working, Ni, can you just go into your room for like an hour?” he asks.

Niall’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean you’re working, why would-“ he cuts himself off, eyes widening at the realization. “Is he,” he points to Louis again. He switches his gaze to Louis. “Are you fucking serious?” he hisses, moving closer to Louis. Louis leans farther back into the cushions. “What a right fucking dick you are!” Niall scoffs.

“Niall,” Harry sighs, running a hand over his face.

“No, Harry! I can’t believe you even agreed to plan his fucking wedding after what he did to you!” Louis can practically see the steam coming from Niall’s ears as he speaks. Louis doesn’t respond. He knows he’s right. “Do you even understand all the shit you put him through?” Niall’s breathing becomes heavier as his anger builds. “I was in his room every night for months, trying everything I could think of to get him to stop _sobbing_  long enough to sleep, and-“

 _“Niall!”_  Harry snaps loudly, his voice booming throughout the flat, startling both Niall and Louis. HIs teeth clench in annoyance, and his cheeks grow pink. “Bedroom. Now.”

Niall rolls his eyes, but obliges, backing off of Louis, but being sure to send him one last glare before he slams his door behind him.

“He’s right,” Louis squeaks out a moment later.

Harry pauses, swallowing the air in his throat. “There’s a really nice banquet hall in Essex that meets most of your criteria.” Harry chooses to ignore Louis’s comment, looking at his notes and writing comments down as they continue their discussion. “Only thing is, the caterer you talked about won’t cater that far out, so you’d have to find someone else for that.”

Louis bites at the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. “That won’t do then. Luke needs his Cedric’s or he’ll throw a fit.”

Louis almost misses the discreet roll of Harry’s eyes. “Quite the guy you have,” he mumbles.

Louis scoffs. “He’s wonderful.”

“You’re more of a garden-wedding man anyway, if I remember correctly,” Harry moves on. He seems to ignore most of what Louis says that doesn’t actually have to do with his wedding.

Louis swallows, Harry’s first semi-acknowledgment of their past startling him slightly. “I am.”

“Yeah, there’s a garden venue in the London limits that Cedric’s will cater to. It’s about a grand more than you wanted to spend though.” Harry writes something down on his notes as he speaks.

“I’d have to talk to Luke about it.” He bites his lip.

Harry glances up, his eyes lingering a second too long on his mouth, before he clears his throat, looking away once again. “We’ll all go check it out Tuesday, then?” Harry suggests. “So you can get a feel of the place before you decide anything either way.”

Louis nods, dreading the plans. “Sounds good.”

 

Not even a minute after Louis leaves Harry’s flat, Niall exits his bedroom, arms crossed and eyes stern.

“What?” Harry asks nonchalantly, clearing the coffee table of his notes.

“What do you mean what?” Niall responds angrily.

Harry just sighs in response, taking his and Louis’s leftover teas into the kitchen. Niall follows. “It’s my job, Niall. I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t!” he exclaims, his arms flailing out to the sides of his body. “Fuck, H, this is wrong on so many levels, and you know it. He fucking broke your heart, and you can say you’re fine now as much as you want, but we both know that as long as he’s in your life, you’ll never be _fine_  when it comes to him,” Niall reasons. “I ought to murder that cunt,” he mumbles.

Harry’s pinches the bridge of his nose partly in annoyance, partly because of the increasing headache that the shit-storm today has been has given him. “Niall,” he sighs. “You’ve really got to stop with these threats, mate, Louis’s-“ Harry cuts himself off, unable to bring himself to say the word on the tip of his tongue. _Fiancé_. “Luke’s a lawyer.”

“I don’t care!” he shouts. “Harry, I swear to god, if you stick with this, I’ll show up at the wedding and object, I swear I’ll do it.”

Harry rolls his eyes, knowing that Niall is harmless and his threats are empty. He thinks, at least. He doesn’t reply, simply leaving his tea in their sink and walking off to his bedroom.

“I’ll do it!” Niall yells after him. Harry ignores him.

 

Tuesday comes way too soon.

The car ride to the garden is full of awkward silences, the only relief of sound coming from Luke typing work emails the entire time, completely oblivious to the tension surrounding them as Harry drives next to Louis.

Louis reaches out and turns on the radio to drown out the quiet. He regrets the action immediately when he hears _Heroes_  by David Bowie fill the speakers. Harry’s jaw clenches.

 

_Louis really shouldn’t have gotten the biggest fizzy drink the venue had available before he sat down at his seat. He chugged the whole thing before the opening act was finished performing, and now, halfway through The Script’s set, he’s literally about to piss himself as he rushes to the nearest toilet, narrowly avoiding the randoms that get in his way._

_He’s so relieved when he finally manages to empty his bladder that he barely notices the shorter curly-haired boy walking right where he’s just stepped._

_“Oops!” the boy says, stumbling_ backward _slightly. Louis almost begins to tell him off, until he looks up and notices the deep green shade of his eyes. “Sorry about that,” the boy apologizes sheepishly._

_“Hi,” Louis replies with a smile._

_The boy grins back. “Hi.”_

_Just then, the familiar guitar riffs of Louis’s /favorite/ cover The Script plays begin._

_The smaller boy’s eyes widen in realization of the song being played. “This is my favorite cover! I’m missing it!” he gasps._

_Louis smiles wider. “Let’s go then!” he exclaims, grabbing his wrist and pulling him through the venue to the nearest entrance. They make it just in time for the first words to begin floating from the lead singer’s mouth_ _._

I, I will be King

And you, you will be Queen

Though nothing will drive them away

We can be heroes just for one day

We can be us just for one day

_He and the boy begin singing the lyrics in unison._

And you, you can be mean

And I, I’ll drink all the time

‘Cause we’re lovers, and that is a fact

Yes, we’re lovers and that is that

_During an extended guitar solo, Louis admires the boy as he bobs his head, dancing around to the music. He extends his hand. “I’m Louis.”_

_The boy looks over to him, the smile on his face growing even wider. “Harry.”_

Heroes _was their song from then on._

 

 

“We’re here,” Harry says quietly as he turns onto a cobblestone driveway of sorts.

 

Louis doesn’t try to hide his awe as they walk through the gates of the garden. “Oh my god,” he breathes, marveling at the vines hugging every tree. Flowers line the walkway and weeping willows sway whimsically as the wind blows. The grass is so green, and the archway is riddled beautifully with hundreds of flowers.

“You like it, then?” Harry’s voice says from behind him.

“It’s,” he breathes out a laugh in wonder at the sight before him. “absolutely beautiful.”

He swears he sees a tiny hint of a smile tug at the corner of Harry’s lips. It quickly disperses when he turns to Louis’s fiancé. “Luke?”

Luke doesn’t look up from his phone, typing away with a focused look on his face.

Louis elbows him in his side. “Luke,” he says.

He quickly glances up. “What’s up?” Louis sees Harry grimace in his peripheral vision, but doesn’t look over to him.

Louis smiles up at him, full of hope. “What do you think of this place?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, it’s nice.” He looks back down at his phone.

“Just nice?” Louis prods, being rudely interrupted by the ring of Luke’s phone.

“I have to take this,” he smiles politely at the two of them, before pressing the phone to his ear and walking away.

Louis sighs as he turns back to Harry, planting a smile on his face. “Big meeting coming up next week.”

Louis knows Harry can tell his smile’s fake. He always could. He doesn’t mention it, though. Just nods. “Sure.” Silence falls between them once again for a moment. Harry breaks it with a cough. “Do you want to see the reception area?”  
Louis smiles. “Yes, definitely.”

Harry nods and motions for him to follow, Louis obliging, taking one last glance back at Luke.

  

///

 

It’s been almost a week since the last time Luke’s been awake enough after work to actually respond to Louis’s advances.

That’s why Louis’s so excited when Luke finally moves the papers Louis’s grading out of his lap, replacing them with his own body as he leans Louis back onto their bed.

Their clothes have just come off when Marimba begins playing incessantly from the bedside table.

Louis tries to wait for the noise to stop, but it’s just so fucking _annoying_. Huffing, Louis rips his lips from Luke’s, reaching over and grabbing his phone.

Louis answers the phone without checking the Caller ID, breaths heavy and voice annoyed. “Hello?” he grumbles.

“Louis?” Harry asks, the tone of his voice confused.

Louis stills. “Harry, hi, um,” he stutters, realizing that he answered Luke’s phone. Luke begins to kiss down his neck, causing Louis to gasp into the phone a bit, much to his own distaste. “Luke, stop,” he scolds him quietly as he stands up, taking the bedsheet with him. He hopes with his entire soul that Harry didn’t hear.

His response makes Louis think he definitely, definitely heard. “Sorry to, um, _interrupt,”_  he mumbles. “I just wanted to tell you that the venue contacted me and said they had a cancellation and wanted to know if you’d be willing to move your wedding up a few months.”

“Oh,” Louis says, surprised. “For when?”

Harry’s voice becomes monotonous. “4 months from now.”

Louis’s eyebrows raise. “Wow, that’s,” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “Soon.”

Harry clears his throat. “Yeah, well, I need to know by 5 o’clock if you want it, so just let me know. I can work it out with all of the vendors, so that shouldn’t be a problem.” He speaks quicker than usual, seeming to just try and get through this conversation. “The sooner the better for everyone, you know?”  
Louis sighs, walking into the hallway. “Harry-“

“I have a meeting right now, so I need to go,” he cuts him off. “Let me know.” He hangs up.

 

Luke’s overjoyed by the earlier date. Louis fakes a smile and goes along with it, texting Harry to confirm the change of date.

_Read at 2:52 PM_

 

 

If Louis’s name leaves Harry’s lips later that night in a desperate attempt to get himself off over the thought of how fucked and breathy Louis would sound after they would spend the night together, begging for release and moaning _Harry_ , then that’s no one’s business but his own. 

 

///

 

“Bye, babe,” Louis says, pecking Luke on the lips as he leaves Harry’s flat.

The three of them have been working on addressing invitations for the past four hours, and they’re nowhere near finished. Luke, of course, has a meeting early the next morning, so he leaves early to get some rest before then, leaving Louis behind for Harry to drive home later.

“We’re about halfway finished,” Harry states as Louis sits back down on his couch. The smaller boy groans loudly, slumping backward and covering his face with a pillow in annoyance. Harry chuckles and finishes addressing the envelope he’s on. He puts his pen down when he’s finished. “Would wine help?” he asks, knowingly.

Louis’s eyes pop open at that, his head quickly moving up and down in a fervent nod. _“Please,”_  he agrees.

Harry nods with a smirk, standing up and heading to his kitchen. He goes into the cabinet where he keeps his wine because _he’s a classy bitch_. He pulls out the red wine he’s had since he graduated from Uni, figuring that _the best time to pop this baby open would definitely be when he’s trying to forget that he’s planning his ex’s wedding._  He grabs two glasses and prances back towards Louis, setting the glasses on the table in front of them and pouring them both generous servings.

“You’re a _god,”_  Louis almost moans as he takes a hefty sip of the drink.

“So I’ve been told,” Harry boasts, licking the excess wine off of his lips.

He rolls his eyes. “At least you’re humble.”

Harry shakes his head with a giggle, turning his attention back to the invitations.

 

An hour and a full bottle of wine later, they’re sat redoing the 20 invitations Louis had spilled half a glass of wine on 10 minutes prior, Harry immediately picking up the remainder of the envelopes and moving them to the kitchen counter.

They were both already slightly pissed on wine, so the giggle fit that took place immediately after lasted a few minutes longer than it probably should have. Niall may or may not have come home and given the pair a strange look before retreating quickly to his bedroom.

 

Harry watches Louis as he drunkenly tells some story about him and his mates nearly getting arrested at a music festival, and this is the first time it feels like they were never apart.

“And _Liam,”_  Louis giggles. _“Liam,_  of all people, goes up to the security guard after we’ve already run away from him once and asks him, pissed _off his ass,_  if we can have our weed back.” He pauses, unable to continue the story through his laughter.

Harry snorts at that, remembering Liam’s shit tolerance for alcohol. “Let’s just hope he won’t be as pissed at the wedding or else he might steal the show away.”

“That wouldn’t be too bad, would it?” Louis chuckles, slapping his knee. He finishes up his glass of wine and picks up the bottle, rising to his feet. “More wine?”

Harry nods.

 

 _“No,_ you’re not allowed to write anymore,” Harry scolds Louis. “Your handwriting’s already bad enough when you’re sober.”

Louis takes offense at that. “Hey!”

Harry feels his eyes roll into the back of his head. “You know very well I’m right.”

Louis purses his lips, his eyes squinting with judgment, before his mouth slowly tilts into an evil smirk.

“Here, I’ll write Oli’s,” he chuckles maniacally, scribbling utter chaos onto the envelope.

Harry’s eyes widen. _“Louis, no!”_  He cackles, leaning over to take the pen out of Louis’s wobbly hand. “It’s going to look like a child’s written it, _stop.”_ Louis moves his hand away from Harry’s, gasping in fake-offense. The action causes Harry’s hand to land on the couch just next to Louis’s ass, their faces closer than they’ve been in years.

Harry feels his body moving without a thought, and his mind isn’t able to comprehend what he’s doing until his lips are on Louis’s. Louis doesn’t hesitate before he returns the kiss, his hands moving swiftly into his hair, tugging his curls like they haven’t lost any time together.

Harry sets down his wine and places his hands on Louis’s cheeks, slowly moving his body on top of Louis’s and pushing him down so that he’s laying horizontally on his couch.

 _Stop it. Stop it. Stop it._  Harry knows this is wrong. He just can’t bring himself to care.

He moans into Louis’s mouth without a worry in the world as he tugs on his hair particularly hard.

“I forgot,” Louis says between kisses. “what you tasted like.”

“Could never forget you,” Harry breathes, beginning to move his lips down Louis’s jaw.

“Still use that fucking cherry lip balm, yeah?” Louis gasps when Harry nips at his skin.

“Picked some up at the petrol station on the way home from the venue,” Harry admits, brushing his lips over Louis’s throat, right where he knows he can’t resist him. “Remembered that you loved how red it made my lips.”

 _“God,_  your lips,” Louis groans, squeezing his eyes shut and imagining all the things Harry used to do to him with _those lips._

 

_Louis’s been waiting 3 months since he and Harry have started seeing each other to feel his lips wrapped around his cock, but it feels like he’s been waiting forever._

_He moans slightly too loudly as his boyfriend licks a stripe up the base of his shaft, swirling his tongue around the head and suckling gently as he tightens his grip on his length._

_He knows Harry’s only ever given a blowjob to one other person in his life, and it was the worst thing he’s ever experienced. It’s right after he discovered he was gay, apparently, and the guy was way too rough._

_Poor Harry was so upset in the midst of things that he started crying. The bloke looked down and saw tears running down Harry’s face, and he left almost immediately._

_He feels himself hit the back of Harry’s throat and groans, tangling his fingers into his hair and letting him do whatever he wants because he wants to let Harry do what he’s comfortable with. He’s pleasantly surprised at how good he feels. He’s a natural._

_He counts his blessings every day and wonders what great things he must have done in a past life to be able to deserve Harry in this one. It’s only been a few months, and Louis already can’t imagine what his life would have been like if he hadn’t gone to the toilet at the Script concert._

_“Fuck, I love you,” he gasps, and neither of them_ _has any time to react before he’s coming into Harry’s mouth._

_Harry works him through his orgasm, swallowing every last drop of his come. He removes his mouth from Louis’s cock with a pop and looks up at him with disbelief in his eyes._

_Louis knows he meant it._

_Harry swallows the air in his throat nervously. “I love you,” he repeats back to Louis. Louis bites his lip, a smile breaking through._

_Harry loses his virginity that night, Louis being incredibly gentle and loving, and Harry knows he never wants to be in anyone else’s arms._

 

It’s as if Harry’s ripped from the same thoughts in Louis’s head, realizing himself that _this is a terrible idea._  He tears his lips from Louis’s, panting. “Louis, maybe we shouldn’t-“

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Louis cuts him off, leaning up and connecting their lips again, deeper this time.

Harry melts into Louis immediately, allowing his tongue to roam his mouth as their hands feel the bodies they’ve been missing for so long.

Harry breaks their kiss once again, and Louis huffs in annoyance, trying to pull him back to no avail. “Niall’s home,” he pants.

Louis curses to himself, but quickly pulls Harry’s lips to his, feeling withdrawals after only a moment. “Let’s go to your room,” he suggests, butterflies filling his tummy. Harry swallows hesitantly from above him, a million thoughts running through his mind, but he ultimately agrees, pushing himself off of him and leading him quietly to his bedroom so that Niall doesn’t hear.

“Are you sure-“ Harry starts as he closes his door behind them.

Louis shushes him before he can finish, pulling him to himself by his neck. They explore each other’s mouths again, clothes beginning to fall to the floor as they make their way towards the bed.

 

Harry feels Louis in a way he hasn’t in years, and forgets every worry he’s ever had as their bodies collide, panting and whining and _moaning_  into each other, their tongues exploring every inch of each other’s bodies well into the night.

 

///

 

 _Shit. Shit. Fuck._

Every curse word Harry’s ever heard runs through his mind as he stares at the sleeping boy next to him.

Sunlight shines through his window, contrasting with the dark feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 _That really shouldn’t have happened,_  he thinks to himself. _Three times._

He wants to regret what happened. He _needs_  to regret what happened. He just doesn’t.

He regretfully nudges Louis slightly, wishing he could just let him sleep next to him forever.

Harry really needs to stop with this _forever_  bullshit that keeps running through his mind. Louis is literally getting married in a few months, and this was just a _drunken mistake._  Louis’s probably going to regret everything the second he wakes up next to him, and Harry really just needs to focus on guarding his heart right now.

“Louis.” He nudges him with slightly more force this time, and Louis stirs in his sleep.

He stretches his arms in the most child-like way, and Harry wants to _cry,_  he’s so cute. His eyes open slowly, squinting at the rays of sunshine hitting his face. Harry tries to pretend he doesn’t notice the soft smile that makes its way onto his lips when he sees Harry next to him. “Hi,” he whispers, voice still raw from the night before. He reaches his hand out towards Harry’s, but Harry quickly moves it away, pretending to itch the top of his head. Louis’s smile drops slightly.

“I was supposed to take you home last night,” Harry says quickly, sitting up on his bed and leaning over to grab the boxers that had been thrown onto his bedside table. He slips them on and stands up, beginning to walk to his bathroom.

Louis' eyebrows furrow slightly. “Harry-“

“You should probably put your clothes on, Lou,” he mumbles as he closes the bathroom door between them, averting his eyes from Louis’s bare skin that makes his heart do backflips in his chest.

 

He walks out of his bathroom after brushing his teeth one too many times to find Louis buttoning his shirt up. He swears his eyes are a little too swollen and a little more red than usual, but he decides to pretend it’s due to the amount of wine they drank the night before.

Harry coughs awkwardly, startling Louis. “Are you ready?” he asks.

Louis nods, hiding his face. “Yeah,” he all but whispers.

 

The car ride there is filled with awkward silence, neither man knowing exactly what to say.

Louis huffs after a good 10 minutes of sitting in traffic before giving in and breaking the silence. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“Not even a little bit, no,” Harry replies immediately without looking away from the road.

“But don’t you think it’s kind of important that we-“

Harry cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. “Alright, so your flowers are all set, as is the DJ, Steve, my personal favorite, and I’ll send your invitations out in the post later today.”

Louis sighs, shutting his eyes momentarily in annoyance. _“Fuck,_ Harry, I cheated on my fucking fiancé, just let me say something to you.”

Harry’s jaw clenches, but he swallows the air in his throat and nods.

“Thank you,” Louis sighs. “I think I missed you a lot more than I thought I did.”

Harry glances over at him in alarm. “What?”

“You heard what I said,” he says softly. “It…” he pauses, sighing quietly to himself, obviously stressed. “Last night was amazing.”

Harry’s eyes widen, and he’s not really sure if he’s breathing or if what he’s hearing is even real, but he doesn’t have time to gather his thoughts before Louis ruins everything once again.

“But,” he sighs.

Harry repeats the beginning of his sentence with more attitude than he intended. “But.” _Figures._

“It can’t happen again, Harry.”

Harry tenses, his grip on the wheel and his jaw tightening alike. “Noted.”

 

///

 

One evening as Harry’s almost ready to head home for the day, he looks up from his desk to see Luke standing in his doorway. “Luke!” he says in surprise.

“Hey, Harry,” Luke smiles, walking closer to his desk.

“Is everything alright with the wedding?” Harry asks, trying to figure out why the hell he’d be in his office at 8 in the evening. “Please, sit.”

Luke shakes his head quickly. “No, no, I’ll only be a second. Everything with the wedding is perfect thanks to you, I just thought I’d come and clear the air with you,” he says.

Harry swallows. _He told him. He told him. He told him,_  Harry’s mind chants.

“So, Louis told me,” Luke begins slowly. Harry holds back his vomit. “that you and him dated back in Uni.”

 _Oh, thank god._  “And college,” Harry adds without thinking. _Shut up, Harry._

“Right, yeah, long time ago,” Luke waves him off. Harry fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway, he explained everything and made sure I knew that there’s obviously nothing between you two anymore. I mean, it’s been years, feelings don’t last that long,” Luke laughs. Harry fakes a chuckle and all he can think is _Louis’s marrying this prick?_  Luke shrugs. “At least on his end.” Harry feels his nostrils flare in anger at that but keeps the rest of his expression neutral. “Just wanted to make sure there wasn’t going to be any awkwardness between the three of us while we’re planning our wedding.”

Harry’s lips curl into a tight smile. “None at all.”

Luke smiles. “Glad we have that straight now. I’ll let you get back to work, Harry,” he says.

“Have a good night,” Harry says, looking down at his stack of papers and listening to Luke’s footsteps retreat.

Harry tries to ignore the burning feeling in his chest.

 _At least on his end_.

 

///

 

_i just found Niall’s weed stash in a picture frame of me and you that he apparently keeps under his bed_

 

Louis stares down at the dimly lit screen of his phone and rereads the message from Harry, chuckling slightly to himself.

Seeing as Niall seems to hate every fiber of his being at the moment, Louis’s intrigued at the fact that he not only kept a picture of Harry and Louis from when they were dating but also stores his weed in it.

He looks over at his fiancé, passed out on the couch next to him and types out a reply.

 

 _if this is you offering to share,_ _i can be there in 20 minutes_

 

Louis bites the inside of his cheek as he sends the message, trying to ignore the guilt he feels for, well, not feeling guilty.

It’s just a little weed between old friends, though, so he really shouldn’t feel guilty.

And it’s been a while since Louis’s had a proper joint, and the wedding’s stressing him out, so he _deserves_  this.

 

_they’ll be rolled and ready for you by the time you get here_

 

Louis smiles at that and slips his shoes on, writing a quick bullshit excuse about a bowtie emergency on a post-it and quietly exiting their flat.

 

Three shared joints in, the pair are lying flat on their backs on Harry’s living room floor, giggling like lunatics as they watch dust slowly drift down from the ceiling fan.

“Are ceiling fans a social construct?” Harry chuckles as he pinches the end of the joint, breathing smoke in and holding it in its rightful place for as long as he sees fit. He hands it off once again.

Louis’s face scrunches in confusion. “How would ceiling fans be a social construct?”

“Well, like, virginity is a social construct because it was made up by man, and so were ceiling fans.”

He shakes his head, taking a puff. “No, love. Virginity’s a social construct because it’s, like, made up by men to shame people who want to have sex before they’re married, and like, it’s not actually real, it’s just, like,” he trails off. “Kind of like time is a social construct, because, like, without mankind, the idea of time would have never really existed.”

“But, like,” Harry ponders slowly, wiggling his fingers in the air in thought. “Watches.”

“The watches themselves are physical items, therefore not social constructs, but the time the watches tell is.”

“Even though the time is in the watch?” he thinks out loud. Louis nods at his question. “Like a mother pregnant with a child.”

That thought makes the two of them break out into another fit of giggles. Louis brings the joint to Harry’s lips, holding it there and letting him breathe the last of it in.

They make eye contact as Harry holds the smoke in his lungs, and suddenly he’s leaning into Louis and pressing their lips together. Their lips part instinctively, and Harry breathes the smoke into the smaller boy’s mouth. Louis hums slightly as they kiss, biting Harry’s bottom lip as a thank you.

Harry flops himself back onto the floor after a moment, breaking the kiss. “What if the universe is a social construct?”

Louis keeps his eyes on Harry’s profile as he looks back up towards the ceiling fan. His cheeks are flushed and there's a sheen of sweat beginning to coat his skin, both signs that Harry’s anxiety is making an unwelcome visit like it sometimes used to when they’d smoke.

“Harry, you need to stop with the deep thoughts, you know you get panic attacks when you’re having an existential crisis,” Louis warns him, trying to conceal his worry with a chuckle.

“But, Louis, what if our entire lives are just simulations, like,” he sighs, and Louis knows his anxiety is beginning to take over his chest by the way his breaths begin to falter. “What if the world really ended like however long ago and there’s just some supernatural being watching the entire lead-up to the tragic end and we’re just here as extras in the grand scheme of things? What if our entire lives have really already come and gone? And now we’re just repeating them for the simulation?”

Louis turns over onto his side and runs one of his hands up and down Harry’s thigh the same way he used to. “That’s quite the theory,” he chuckles nervously.

Harry doesn’t seem to be phased by his attempts to calm him. “Even worse, what if we just never existed? What if everything about us was just made up to be a subplot?”

Louis moves his hand to his torso. “Babe, you need to calm down.” Harry grabs Louis’s hand and holds it, pressing it to his chest, and Louis’s able to feel just how quickly his heart is beating. “Harry,” he says slowly. “Are you having an anxiety attack?”

Harry swallows the air in his throat and nods slightly. “A little one.”

It always used to make Louis incredibly nervous when Harry would have a panic attack. They would show themselves differently every time, and there were only a few ways that Louis knew to calm him down.

There was always one way that was more effective than the others.

Louis calmly climbs on top of Harry and lays down on top of him, stomach to stomach, making sure to press his weight down on him. He feels Harry’s arms immediately wrap themselves around his waist, as Louis absentmindedly presses a kiss to the side of his throat, burying his face into the dip of his neck. He feels Harry’s heart beat against his own for the first time in years.

He forgot how much he missed being this close to him.

He always hated how much Harry’s anxiety took over him sometimes, but he always found peace in being able to calm him down.

“You’re alright, yeah?” Louis whispers in his ear once he’s able to take full, deep breaths. Harry nods but squeezes him tighter, as if telling him to stay right where he is. Louis stays, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m right here.”

 

They move to the couch awhile later, falling asleep, Louis’s chest pressed against Harry’s back, their fingers intertwined.

 

They’re awakened by an agitated Niall the next morning.

Harry walks Louis to his front door, both giggling as they hear Irish mumbles about _stolen fucking weed_ retreating down the hall.

As he’s walking away, he can’t quite remember if it was Harry kissing him goodbye, or the other way around. Either way, he decides that the butterflies in his stomach are a social construct.

 

///

 

Louis is so _fucking_  annoyed with Luke and his incessant ability to cancel almost every single date Louis plans because he needs to work late. He just wanted to have a nice dinner with his fiancé and talk about how his day went, but he _can’t_  because apparently, his day is too important to him to end when it should.

It’s not even like he stayed late at the office. No, he came home to Louis’s already cooked dinner with candles and music and walked _straight_  back to his home office, only saying _“I really don’t have time for this tonight, Louis, maybe tomorrow.”_

It’s a month before their wedding and he can’t even make time to have a nice dinner with him? _Is this what their entire marriage is going to be like?_

Louis _cooked_  for him. _He actually cooked for him to just blow him off at the last second_.

So, yeah. Louis’s annoyed.

  
He decides to go on a walk to smoke and calm himself down, and he doesn’t realize just where he’s heading until he finds himself in front of Harry’s flat.

He groans inwardly at himself and the fact that he ended up _here_  of all places. The one place his subconscious mind _shouldn’t_  lead him.

He contemplates just turning around and going home, but Louis’s _tired,_  and he just wants to chill out for a bit. Plus, he and Harry are trying to be friends now, and friends go to each other’s flats when they’re annoyed at their partners.

 _It’s fine to be here right now._  Or at least that’s what he tells himself as he approaches the front door.

He knocks politely and waits a reasonable amount of time before knocking again.

He hears the doorknob begin to jiggle as Harry unlocks the door, and it swings open to reveal Niall. And he doesn’t look too thrilled to see Louis.

 _Fuck,_  Louis thinks to himself. He forgot Niall lives here too. He also nearly forgot that Niall hates him.

He puts his best sheepish smile on his lips, teeth showing and everything. Niall doesn’t take the bait.

Almost immediately, Niall goes to slam the door in his face without a word, but Louis stops the door with his foot. “Can I please just come in?”

“Why are you even here?” Niall asks him with squinted eyes.

Louis sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “Is Harry here?”

“I’m right here,” Harry says, nudging the door open to reveal himself, much to Niall’s annoyance. “Are you okay?”

Louis just sniffs and looks away, avoiding Niall’s judgmental gaze.

Harry notices Louis’s discomfort and elbows Niall slightly. “Can you, um, go away?”

“Wow, didn’t even try to be polite,” Niall half-jokes. Harry shrugs, and Niall rolls his eyes and walks away, shutting his bedroom door behind him.

Harry clears his throat. “Come in.” Louis walks in and Harry makes a face that he used to see much too often. “Smoking will kill you, you know.”

Louis smiles.

 

Louis _tried_  not to straddle Harry every chance he got as they sat on the couch and Louis talked about how annoyed he is with Luke. Harry’s just such a good _listener._  And he stares deep into Louis’s eyes as he speaks, not missing a word. The way his jaw moves when he eats those _stupid_  carrots of his makes Louis’s mouth dry more than it should, and that little half-smile Harry does when he chuckles makes Louis’s heart skip a beat _for no reason._  Obviously.

_He really, really tried._

 

Louis runs his hands through Harry’s hair as he’s carried down the hall to his bedroom, Harry’s hands squeezing his bum just the way he knows he likes it.

Louis moans into Harry’s mouth as he backs him up against his door, fiddling with the doorknob until it falls open behind them.

Harry lowers him onto the floor and runs his hands over his torso, tracing his fingers under his shirt.

Louis almost doesn’t register the sudden annoying ringtone sounding as he removes Harry’s t-shirt from his body, attaching his lips to his neck and inspiring a groan from deep inside his throat.

He feels Harry reach into his back pocket and put his phone up to his ear. “Hello?” he all but moans. Louis feels him tense as he continues leaving marks all over his chest. “Luke,” he breathes. Louis isn’t phased, somehow.

_Who’s Luke?_

“What’s up?” he asks. Noticing that Louis’s demeanor doesn’t change at the mention of his fiancé, Harry reaches around and squeezes his bum before backing him up so that the back of his thighs hit his bed. He tilts his head so that the phone is pressed between his cheek and his shoulder as he reaches down begins unbuttoning Louis’s shirt. “Uh huh,” he says, pretending to listen. “Peonies, right, yeah.” He undoes the last button and removes Louis’s lips from his chest, pushing him back so that he falls onto his bed. “From pink to white, sounds great.” Harry climbs on top of Louis, straddling and leaning over him. He doesn’t have the upper hand for long before Louis flips them over so that he’s on top, kissing down his chest and stomach until he makes it to his jeans. He undoes his jeans and wastes no time pulling them and his pants down below his ass and wrapping his lips around the head of his cock. Harry tenses and gasps. _“Jesus,”_  he groans in surprise. “No, sorry, my-my cat just scratched me,” he breathes, glancing down at Louis. He regrets looking down as he bobs his head up and down his cock, swirling his tongue around the tip and looking up at him with the _dirtiest_  look in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m making a note of it right now.” Harry covers his eyes with the hand that’s free from his phone as Luke continues to rant to him about flowers and lighting and issues that he _really_  couldn’t care less about right now. He feels himself hit the back of Louis’s throat and accidentally lets out a loud moan. _“Fuck,”_  he gasps. “Luke, I’m sorry, I have to go, my cat is losing his _fucking_  mind.” He doesn’t wait for a response before he hangs up, accidentally throwing his phone off the bed. “Louis, oh my god, you can’t just-“ he cuts himself off with a groan as Louis quickens his pace, taking him all the way down his throat with every dip of his head.

Harry moves his hands to Louis’s head, gripping his hair as he thrusts his hips up slightly, Louis taking everything he gives him without a problem. _God, he missed his mouth._

He feels himself getting closer to his orgasm as Louis continues. “Louis,” he breathes. “Louis, stop.”

Louis does as he’s told and lets Harry pull him on top of him as he fiddles with the button on his jeans, kicking his own off onto the floor.

Harry sighs in happiness as he feels the familiar tingles rush all over his body as their skin collides.

Harry doesn’t even think about how wrong this is. He can’t seem to really think anything other than /beautiful/ whenever he’s alone with Louis.

“You’re so fucking,” he pauses his sentence with a moan. _“beautiful,_  Lou. So fucking beautiful,” he echoes his thoughts as Louis’s hands press against his hipbones, his hips rocking slowly on top of Harry’s as he rides him.

 

Harry tries to pretend his heart doesn’t ache the next morning when he wakes up to an empty bed and a note on the pillow where Louis’s head should be.

 

/Pink to white.

xxx.

-L/

 

///

 

Louis and Luke walk out of their flat just in time to watch as Harry pulls up in his black Range Rover.

“Aren’t we fancy?” Louis jokes as he opens the door to the passenger seat, lifting himself into the seat next to Harry.

Harry chuckles, beginning to drive off once Luke shuts his door in the back. “You’ve been in my car before, you know.”

“Yeah, didn’t mention it then, though,” Louis says, lightly punching Harry’s shoulder.

“We’re getting the rings today, right?” Luke interrupts their banter.

Harry’s smile falls slightly, but he nods. “Yeah.”

 

The rest of the car ride ends up being basically silent, except for the sound of the radio playing quietly in the background.

Louis takes a deep breath as they enter the ring store, Harry holding the door open for the engaged pair.

“Perrie!” Harry greets warmly. A fair-skinned blonde turns around at his voice and smiles widely, opening her arms for him. He hugs her tightly and Louis ignores the intrusive thought that enters his mind about how warm Harry’s hugs used to be. _As warm as his heart._  “I need to pick up the rings for the Malak-Tomlinson wedding.”  
“Of course, of course!” she grins, clapping at Louis and Luke when she looks back at them. “Let me go get them.”

Harry turns around to the two of them when Perrie heads into the back and smiles. Whether or not the smile is directed solely at Louis is beside the point.

Perrie comes out a few minutes later with the rings set out nicely on a silver metal tray. “I believe this one is Louis’s and this is Luke’s.”

“Perfect, thank you so much, Pez,” Harry thanks her.

Just as Louis takes his ring between his fingers, the familiar sound of a phone going off causes him to send an annoyed side-glance to Luke. “Babe, can you not-“

“Hello?” Luke answers his phone, holding a finger up to Louis and making his way outside to continue the conversation.

Louis lets an audible sigh leave his lips, throwing his ring down back into the tray with a little too much force. The ring bounces off of the silver-plated metal and falls to the tiled floor.

Seeing the stress radiate off of Louis’s shoulders, Harry quickly kneels down to pick up his fallen ring. _Quite plain,_  Harry thinks to himself. “I’ve got it.”

He looks up and meets Louis’s eyes with his, holding the ring up to him. It’s then that Harry realizes the compromising position he’s put himself in: down on one knee, presenting a ring to _(the love of his life)_  his ex-boyfriend.

The way Louis looks at Harry, eyes sad and wanting, teeth pinching his bottom lip, causes ripples of shockwaves to surge over his skin.

Instead of taking the ring directly from Harry, Louis ever so slowly lifts his hand out flat so that it’s level with the ring, and Harry glances between his eyes and his hand. _His adorable, dainty hand._

Gently, Harry takes Louis’s left hand with his, cautiously beginning to slide the silver ring onto his finger, as if one wrong move will make him run away again. Which he very well could. _Not that he’s Harry’s anyways._

The ring makes it all the way onto his finger, and when Harry looks up, Louis’s eyes are drowning in tears threatening to fall. Harry’s heart starts to thump painfully in his chest, and he quickly stands up, dropping Louis’s hand as he does so.

Louis’s lips threaten to speak, but all Harry knows is _he has to get out of here._

“Haz-“ Louis starts, but that’s all he can get out before Harry turns sharply around, walking swiftly out of the store.  
_What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck_  repeats in Harry’s mind as he pushes open the glass doors, leaving Louis standing alone for once. _What just happened?_

“What the _fuck!”_  Harry shouts, unable to stop himself from kicking the brick wall outside the store, his hands pulling at the hair on top of his head in utter confusion.

“Harry?” Luke says, confused, as he continues to storm away. Harry can’t dare face him right now, so he just quickens his pace. Louis walks out a moment later, the bags in his hand clashing with the ones under his eyes. “Where’s he going?”

“Said something about a work emergency,” Louis lies monotonously.

Luke furrows his eyebrows. “What kind of work emergency does a wedding planner have?” Louis doesn’t answer, just shrugs instead. “Well, he was our ride, so I guess I’m calling an Uber.”

“I can’t believe I’m marrying you,” Louis mumbles with a shake of his head.

“Aw,” Luke coos, planting a kiss on the top of his head and obviously missing his pessimistic tone. “I can’t believe I’m marrying you either.”

He doesn’t notice Louis’s puffy red eyes.

 

Harry hasn’t been on his favorite hike in five years. For five years, he couldn’t bring himself to walk this trail, and now that he has, he wishes he didn’t.  
The memories every root of every tree brings back are beautiful ones that Harry wishes he could just _forget_. They’re rooted with bad feelings and excruciating pain and a _love_  that he’ll never have again. 

The stream is almost dried up because the earth is dying and the bridge he’s currently sitting on has vines wrapping around the entirety of it. It’s all different and worse than it was, and Harry’s just _so sad._

He sits with his feet dangling off the side, watching the last bit of water making its way downstream as he thinks about everything he’s lost.

“Haven’t been out here in years,” a voice comes from his right. Harry groans, leaning his head against one of the wooden posts holding the bridge together.

“Why are you here?” Harry asks, his tone closed-off and accusatory. “Don’t you have wedding things to be doing?”

“Don’t have to pick up the tuxes until tomorrow,” he replies gently. He sits down on the bridge next to Harry, folding his legs under him.

“I want to be alone, Louis,” Harry mumbles.

“You never want to be alone when you’re crying, love,” Louis whispers, because he knows he’s close enough that Harry will hear him.

Harry’s face contorts slightly, and another tear rolls down his cheek. “Don’t call me that,” he chokes.

Louis ignores him. “I missed you, you know,” he admits. “Over the past few years.”

“You left me,” Harry replies with a bitter laugh.

Louis sighs. “I had my reasons.”

 _“What,_  Louis?” Harry raises his voice. “What were your fucking reasons? Because I never heard any. I never got any _damn_  peace of mind. No closure, no explanation, _nothing!”_  Harry stands up from his place on the bridge and takes a few steps, turning away from the man who broke his heart. He wipes his eyes, no longer caring if Louis sees him cry.

He hears Louis stand up behind him, but doesn’t turn to face him. “Harry, look at me.” Harry turns around, his arms folded in front of him, but he doesn’t meet his gaze. “I was scared, Harry. That’s why I left.”

Harry rolls his drowning eyes. “Scared of what?”

“Of fucking everything up,” he admits. “We were so young. You always talked about our future and I was scared I’d ruin everything.”

“You ruined everything anyway!” Harry shouts.

Louis swallows, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “I know,” he says quietly. “It’s my biggest regret in my life, walking away from you.” Harry looks everywhere but at him. “Look into my eyes, love.”

“I _can’t_  look into your eyes, Louis,” Harry breaks. “Every time I look into your fucking eyes, I get butterflies. Like I’m a fucking teenager again. I _hate_  it,” he seethes. “I hate that you still make me feel like I’m a fucking teenager when I’m closer to 30 than 20. I hate that it’s been years, and I still want to take you in my arms and _kiss you_  with everything in me, but I _can’t.”_  Tears cascade down his face as he speaks. “Because you left me. And now you’re engaged to someone else, and to ice the fucking cake, I’m planning _our_  goddamn wedding!” he lets out a particularly loud sob at that, his voice breaking. “But instead of _marrying_  you, I have to watch you go and marry someone else! I’m just here to dot the i’s and cross the t’s for you. My heart’s breaking all over again, and I can’t even do anything to stop it.” He finishes his speech, his hands brushing his hair out of his face.

Louis stares back at him with wide eyes, his heart beating in his chest at Harry’s admission. “I never meant to hurt you like that,” he breathes out.

“Never meant to hurt me?” Harry scoffs. “Do you even know how long it took me to get over you?” Harry hisses back, walking over to Louis and invading his space. Louis doesn’t seem to mind the closeness. “I couldn’t even _look_  in the general direction of a man for two years, Louis. _Two fucking years._  That’s how much you fucked me up. You left me after six years without even a _word_  as to _why,“_ Harry can feel his voice raising, but he can’t seem to gain any control of his mouth.  
Louis fish-mouths, unable to form a response to Harry’s words.

“Do you know why we came out here on that hike that day?” Harry continues. Louis shakes his head slightly. “I was fucking _proposing_  to you.” Louis’s eyes grow even wider, if possible. “I had my hand on the _fucking_  ring when you ripped my heart to shreds and stomped on it.” Harry’s practically shouting now.

Louis swallows. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Harry so upset. “I’m sorry.”

“You know what the worst part was?” Harry laughs almost maniacally, ignoring Louis’s apology completely.

“What?” Louis breathes, taking in the sight of Harry all red-faced, veins popping out of his forehead.

“My friends tried to convince me to _hate_  you after that.” Louis frowns at the thought of Niall speaking ill of him, but he understands why. “Hell!” Harry throws his hands into the air. “I tried to convince _myself_  to hate you, but I couldn’t.I _fucking_  couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Louis chokes out, tears beginning to rush down his cheeks, his face contorting. “You _should_  hate me.”

“Why _not?“_ Harry scoffs back at him, genuinely acknowledging something he’s said for once. “Because I was _in love_  with you!” he yells, his hands combing through his hair. He swallows, staring directly into Louis’s eyes for the first time. “I was completely and totally in love with you,” he says, his voice falling softer. Louis keeps the eye-contact steady. “I’m-I’m still,” he stutters, his words trailing off. There’s quiet between them for a brief moment. Harry’s eyes quickly clench themselves shut, his hands being thrown to his head as he lets out a deep growl. “You’re in my _fucking_  head again!” he shouts. “I don’t know how you always weasel your way into my head, but I’m _sick_  of it. I’m sick of it, I’m sick of it, I’m _sick-“_

Louis cuts him off with his lips, grabbing his face between his hands and bringing them closer than they should be. Harry reacts with a gasp through his nose but doesn’t pull himself away. He just lets Louis kiss him and moves his lips ever so slightly in response until Louis finally pulls away.

They stare at each other, longing in Louis’s eyes and anger in Harry’s. “Leave,” Harry hisses, his eyes narrowing as he shoves Louis’s hands away from his face.

Louis watches as Harry stomps angrily over to the bridge, leaning over the post without giving him a second glance. “Harry-“

 _“Go!”_ Harry shouts, pointing to the trail’s exit.

Louis listens this time. Harry cries.

 

///

 

For some reason, Louis gets this undeniable, ever-present feeling in his chest that Harry’s going to tell Luke what happened between them. Why wouldn’t he, after all? He’s just waiting for the pin to drop.  
“Hey, so I talked to Harry earlier today,” Luke mentions in passing, and Louis freezes.

“Yeah?” he replies. “What did he say?”

“He just confirmed our rehearsal dinner time for Friday,” he shrugs as he continues to scroll through his phone. Louis’s eyebrows furrow at that, wondering why Harry didn’t drop them as clients or tell him what happened. Or both, for that matter. “Sounded annoyed though, not sure why.”

“That’s weird,” Louis replies, genuinely confused.

Luke shrugs again without looking up.

 

Come Friday, Louis’s strangely calm. It’s the night of his and Luke’s rehearsal dinner, and everything is somehow going perfectly.

Okay, so maybe not _somehow._  Everything is going perfectly because of Harry. He’s fantastic at his job. Even when Louis swoops in and makes his job a living hell just by existing, he still manages to get every detail _exactly_  right.

Louis fluffs the sample bouquet in his dressing room and sighs. “No wonder he’s so successful,” he mumbles thoughtfully to himself.

“Yeah, the florist we used is one of the best,” a familiar voice says from behind him.

Louis spins around on his heels and is met with the sight of Harry leaning against the doorway with a small smirk on his face.

“Hi,” Louis breathes. He takes in the sight of his black suit, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the black vest underneath his jacket that shows off the tops of the swallows on his chest.

“How are you?” he asks, pushing himself off the door frame and taking a few steps towards him.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Louis says honestly, inching closer.

Harry’s hands slip into the pockets of his trousers as he fidgets back and forth on his feet. “Is everything good for the rehearsal tonight?”

Louis’s smile drops slightly, realizing that Harry’s only here because it’s his job to be. Not for him. “Yeah, I think so.” Louis takes a quick glance around the room. He grazes a peony with his finger. “Flowers are beautiful, place settings and centerpieces couldn’t be more perfect, the photographer is setting up, and the DJ is on his way,” he lists off, taking a step closer with every item.

They’re face to face finally, and Harry can’t help but smile down at the smaller boy. “I’m glad my reputation is remaining intact,” he jokes.

Louis smiles. He reaches up and grabs onto Harry’s jacket, pulling himself slightly closer. “And you’re here,” he whispers, turning his head upwards to meet his eyes.

Harry swallows the air in his throat, his nostrils flaring slightly as he glances between his eyes and lips. It’s a small tell, but Louis knows it means that he’s trying not to kiss him.

Louis has absolutely no self-control around him anymore. _Not that he ever really did._

He pulls Harry to him by his jacket, eagerly connecting their lips. Harry seems to lose all sense of being when he feels Louis, wrapping his hands around his waist and lifting him slightly, carrying him to the back of the room and pushing him against the wall. He deepens the kiss, swirling their tongues together and loving the feeling of Louis’s fingers combing through his hair.

He slips his hand under Louis’s shirt, marveling at the softness of his tummy. _Harry loves Louis’s tummy._  His knee pushes between his thighs, their groins pressing together.

It’s when Louis moans into his mouth that Harry realizes the mistake he _keeps_  making. He quickly tears himself away, beginning to anxiously pace around the dressing room, his hands flying through his messy curls.

Louis stands up, slowly making his way over to him. “Harry,” he says cautiously, moving his hand to place it on his shoulder. “Calm down-“

Harry cuts him off, ripping his body away from Louis’s touch with a gasp. “I need to leave,” he says, panic evident in his voice.

“Don’t leave,” Louis pleads, reaching for him. Harry moves his arm behind his back to avoid his hand.

“I can’t go to the dinner,” he says monotonously, looking everywhere but at Louis.

Louis sighs. “H, I need you there, you’re the only way I’ll make it through without stabbing myself with my fork,” he tries to joke.

Harry doesn’t laugh. “Or the wedding.”

Louis’s face drops. “You’re not coming to the wedding _you_  planned?”

Harry moves his gaze so that he’s looking directly into the eyes that make him melt. He feels the butterflies in his throat. “I’m not going to watch you marry someone else, Louis,” he says sternly. “I can’t.” He looks around the room again, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. “I need to go,” he mumbles, turning away from Louis for what might be the last time.

“Harry,“ Louis whimpers, taking a step towards him. “I _need_  you.”

“I’ve done everything I can for you, just,” he sighs. “just have a nice life with Luke, alright?”

With that, Louis swallows his pride, ready to risk it all. “Harry, I don’t-“ His courage dissolves when Luke walks through the door of his dressing room, suit crisp and hair in place.

“Are you almost ready, babe?” Luke asks, running his hand down his blazer.

Harry looks at Louis, eyes begging for him to finish what he almost said.

Louis looks back and forth between the two men in front of him. He takes a deep breath, molding his lips into a fake smile. “Yeah, just have to tuck my shirt in,” he replies to Luke.

He tries his best to pretend that the look on Harry’s face that screams in agony as he turns and walks away for what might be the last time didn’t have an effect on him. But he knows it did.

“Where’s he going?” Luke asks with furrowed brows. “The rehearsal dinner starts in 20 minutes.”

Louis shrugs. “Wasn’t feeling well. I think he’s heading home.”

 

///

 

Niall comes home from work the next afternoon to Harry laying horizontally on the couch, tears running down his cheeks. “Haz?” he greets softly upon noticing his disheveled state.

Harry immediately sits up, wiping the tears from his face and putting on a fake smile. Niall frowns, sitting next to him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Harry lies. Niall gives him a knowing look, and Harry’s fake smile quickly turns into a frown as his expression shifts into one of pure sorrow.

“Come here,” Niall says, opening his arms to his best friend. Harry quickly complies, leaning his head against his chest and letting his tears flow free into his shirt as Niall rubs his hand up and down his back.

“I know you know what’s been going on between me and Louis,” Harry says between sobs.

Niall nods, leaning his head on top of Harry’s. “Yeah, I know.”

“I still love him, Niall,” Harry whimpers.

“I know you do, Haz.” Niall comforts. “Hey, at least now you can officially move on,” Niall suggests, trying to lighten the mood as if _that_  was the thing that would do it.

Harry sits up straight. “Maybe I don’t have to,” he says slowly, wiping his eyes.

Niall furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “He’s getting married, mate. It’s over. Time to move on.”

A shit-splitting grin makes its way onto Harry’s lips. “It’s not over until somebody says I do.” He stands up from his place on their couch and quickly jogs over to his front door, opening it.

Niall’s eyes widen, and he chases after Harry, who’s now fiddling with his keys to unlock his car. _“I do!”_  Niall yells after him. _“I do!”_  Harry drives away from their flat, and Niall curses to himself, knowing he has to go stop his idiot best friend from embarrassing himself.

 

///

 

Louis can do this. He can. He can do it. He can marry Luke. _Right?_

 _Of course he can!_  He loves Luke. _Doesn’t he?_  Yes, yes, of course he loves him! With all of his heart. Everything about him, from his lanky legs to the way he walks, his smile, his curly hair, his emerald green eyes - _wrong man,_  Louis thinks to himself. He slaps himself across the cheek and jumps up and down slightly, trying to prepare himself for the biggest mistake- _day_  of his life.

Luke is nice. And successful. And funny. And caring. And… _And,_ Louis pushes himself.

He sighs, falling to the floor in defeat. _And he’s not Harry._

Louis can’t do this.

He stands up, quite literally trying to shake his nerves off his body. _“Liam!”_  he shouts frantically, willing his best man to sprint his ass to him.

Liam busts through the door, seeming to expect to have to fight a masked murderer. “What?” he breathes heavily. “What happened?”

“I’m going to go talk to Luke, you’re going to go tell everyone that I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart, and then you’re going to clear everyone out so that the rest of their day isn’t completely ruined,” he says quickly.

 _“What?”_  Liam asks slowly.

“I’m gonna go tell Harry I’m still in love with him,” Louis laughs, almost maniacally, his nerves reaching the surface. 

“Harry?” Liam asks, confused. “You dated Harry 5 years ago.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, I have a lot I need to catch you up on, it seems. _Just go,_  alright? Please,” he begs. “I’m running, and as my best man, it’s in your job description to run with me.”

Liam sighs out a nervous chuckle. He nods. “Yeah, alright, just go.”

Louis squeals, lunging over to his best friend and tackling him in a hug. “Thank you, Liam, I owe you a lot.”

“Just don’t run away from your next wedding, and we’ll be even.”  
“I promise,” Louis grins.

 

His grin doesn’t last very long as he makes his way down the hallway to Luke’s dressing room. He knocks politely on the door, not waiting for him to reply before he walks in, his expression somber.

Luke gasps when he sees him. “Louis, we’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding!” He’s smiling, and _Louis is the biggest dick in the world._  “It’s bad luck,” he pouts. Louis doesn’t laugh, his emotions instead deciding to take control of him as his face contorts in pain and regret, tears staining his face and leaving his eyes bloodshot. Luke’s eyes widen. “What’s wrong?” he asks gently, squeezing Louis’s biceps to try and comfort him. It doesn’t work.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis sobs. “I can’t do this.”

Luke’s face falls in time with his arms as they land at his sides. “The bad luck came quickly,” he swallows, an evident lump in his throat. “Is it-“ he sighs. “Is it Harry?”

Louis’s jaw drops slightly, wondering if it was _that_  obvious how in love he is with Harry the entire time. _Louis is the absolute worst._  He bites the inside of his cheek as he stares into Luke’s watery eyes. He nods silently.

Luke takes a deep breath, looking away from him momentarily to wipe at his eyes. He chuckles awkwardly. “I was hoping I was just being paranoid.”

“I’m so sorry,” he sobs again, his hand flying to his mouth as he cries.

“Hey, shh, shh,” Luke shushes him, bringing him into his arms, letting Louis nuzzle his head into his chest. “You deserve to be Happy, Louis Tomlinson, and if Harry makes you happy, then there’s nothing either of us can do about that, alright?”

Louis nods. “I’m such a dick,” he says into his chest.

“You were right to end this, alright?” Luke presses a kiss onto the top of his head, his lips lingering there for a moment. He lifts his head again and takes a deep breath before he lets Louis go. “Now, go get him,” he says half-heartedly.

“Thank you,” Louis lets himself smile gratefully at the second man whose heart he’s shattered into a million tiny pieces. He turns to leave.

He needs to fix the boy he fucked up in the first place.

 

Harry made it all the way to the venue, and he had almost made it to Louis’s dressing room when he saw something that made him come to his senses.

Louis and Luke holding each other in Luke’s room, Luke pressing a kiss to the top of his head as they sway slightly and most likely tell each other how lucky they are to have one another.

Harry swallows the lump in his throat at the sight. His eyes water and he knows he can’t do this. He can’t ruin this wedding. He just wants Louis to be happy. If Luke makes Louis happy, then that’s it. Louis’s made his choice, and he needs to respect that.

_Louis’s not his anymore._

 

Niall walks down the corridors of the venue, sweaty and annoyed that he’s having to even try and track Harry down right now. He looks into every window of every room, his curly-headed roommate remaining out of sight.

The fifth hallway Niall searches is completely empty, not a person in sight. “Fuck,” he whispers to himself.

He goes to turn around when a voice speaks to him from behind.

“Hey, mate, the wedding’s off, we need to clear out the venue,” the voice says.

Niall immediately spins around on his heels. His eyebrows furrow in surprise. “Liam?”

Liam glances over at him, his eyes widening slightly. “Niall!” he says, approaching him with open arms. They hug, patting each other on the back. “How are you?” Liam asks. “You’re much broader than the last time I saw you.”

Niall’s eyes squint in confusion. “What are you, my grandad?” he chuckles. “Okay, great catching up with you, what do you mean the wedding’s off?” Niall speaks faster than he’s ever spoken. “Where’s Harry?”

“Louis went to go find him,” Liam explains.

Niall’s eyes widen in relief. “So Harry didn’t come confess his undying love to Louis and ask him to leave Luke, then? Louis left by himself.”

“Uh, yes, exactly,” Liam chuckles.

“So I don’t have to object to the wedding, then!” Niall sighs in relief.

“Wait, you were going to what?”

Niall’s lips turn up in the biggest shit eating grin Liam thinks he’s ever seen. He slaps him on the shoulder in excitement. “Thanks, lad!” he calls as he runs down the hall. “Text me sometime, we’ll actually catch up!”

He hears Liam call out an amused _“Okay!”_  from down the hall as he taps _call_  next to Harry’s contact in his phone and presses it to his ear.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he mumbles to himself.

 

Harry ignores Niall’s call for what seems to be the hundredth time, choosing to instead continue to drown his sorrows in ice cream as he tries not to think about the fact that Louis’s walking down the aisle right now to marry someone who’s _not Harry._

He groans when he gets another incoming call from Niall, pressing the red button and shoveling another giant spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream into his mouth. He doesn’t even really _like_  mint chocolate chip ice cream. He only has it because it’s Louis’s favorite, and he knew how much he likes to have a bowl of mint chocolate chip when he’s stressed, and wedding planning is extremely stressful. Especially when doing it in your ex’s flat.

Harry whimpers and puts his head down on his counter, wishing he was numb. He sighs and straightens out, deciding he probably shouldn’t eat an entire gallon of ice cream in one sitting.

Just as he puts his ice cream back into his freezer, he hears a frantic knock at his door. Assuming it’s Niall coming to annoy him further, he decides he’d rather shout than actually open the door. “It’s open!” he calls out. He put his water glass to his lips as the door creaks open.

The person who walks through the door is the last person he ever expected, but the only one he truly wanted. When Louis turns the corner, Harry chokes on his water, spitting half of it onto the counter in front of him and half of it spilling onto his feet. “Louis?” he gasps, eyes wide and puffy.

“Hi,” he replies softly, slowly stepping towards him, still in his tux, bowtie undone and hair disheveled.

“What are you,” Harry pauses, not believing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Louis bites the inside of his cheek. “I couldn’t do it.”

Harry’s heart starts to pound inside his chest. “Do what?” he asks cautiously.

“I couldn’t marry him.” Louis comes closer to him, and Harry thinks he might faint.

Harry swallows. “Why not?”

Louis chuckles slightly, shaking his head. “You know why.”  
“Say it,” he urges him.

Louis’s smile reaches his eyes. “I love you,” he admits. “Always have. Always will.” He bites at the skin of his bottom lip, waiting for some sort of response.

Harry doesn’t know what to say, just stares at Louis with wide, unbelieving eyes.

“So, um, that’s-that’s why,” Louis stutters, nerves seeming to take over him a bit. “I love you,” he repeats. “I’m _in love_  with you. I feel like I could vomit right now if I’m honest, but you deserve to know that I love you. And I want to be with you. Only you. Forever,” he rambles. Harry’s mouth is dry and his palms are sweating. “I might just keep rambling on until you say something, to be honest. If you hate me, I’d really rather you tell me now so I can stop making a fool of myself, but I guess I kind of deserve-“

Harry cuts Louis’s rant off, taking his face between his hands and connecting their lips in a fervent kiss. He feels Louis smile against his lips as he brings his hands up to touch Harry’s.

Harry doesn’t realize he’s crying until he disconnects their lips, pressing his forehead against the love of his life’s. “I love you,” Harry weeps.

Louis breathes out a laugh at that, bringing his thumb to his cheek to wipe his tears. He brings his lips to Harry’s again quickly before he responds. “I love you too.” Harry laughs lightly as he cries, happier than he’s been in more than five years. “And we can take everything slow, alright?” Louis reassures Harry. “I know I’m going to have to gain back your trust, and I’m ready to do that for you, okay? I love you,” he says again. Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of hearing him say that.  
The moment Harry’s been dreaming of for years pops into his mind, and he kisses Louis once more. “Wait here,” he says, pecking his lips again. He quickly scurries off to his room, and Louis furrows his brows, following him. “Wait!” Harry repeats. Louis listens, pausing in the living room.

“What’s going on?” Louis chuckles as Harry reemerges from his bedroom with his hand hidden behind his back. “What do you have there?”

Harry takes a deep breath before bringing his hand into Louis’s line of sight to reveal a small, black velvet box. Louis gasps, his hand covering his mouth in surprise.

“I don’t want to take it slow, Louis,” Harry says confidently. “This has been in the back of my closet for five and a half years now, and it’s always been for you.”

Louis can’t help but cry. “Oh, Harry,” he whimpers.

Harry swallows nervously, slowly lowering himself onto one knee. Louis can’t help but giggle giddily. “I have been waiting for you to come back for five and a half years, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry begins. “I didn’t think that it would ever actually happen, but here you are,” he cries. “I’ve already made a really long speech to you in the past about how much you mean to me, but just know that my feelings for you have never changed. Even when we were apart, I still loved you the same as the first time we met.” Louis chuckles, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Just,” Harry laughs, opening the box and revealing the silver ring that’s been hiding away from sight for years. “Please, _for the love of god,_  Louis, just marry me.”

Louis bites his lip, unable to contain his smile. He holds his left hand out to Harry. “I’d love to.”

Harry grins from ear-to-ear, slipping the ring onto Louis’s finger and quickly standing up, wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling his face into the dip of his neck, squeezing him with all of his might.

 _He’s really his now._  Harry’s been wishing for this moment for forever, and it’s finally happened. He finally gets to spend the rest of his life next to the only boy he’s ever truly loved, and he gets to call him _his._

 _“Louis didn’t get married!”_  Niall’s voice echoes through their flat as he bursts through the door. “Louis didn’t-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the pair hugging with tear-stained cheeks. They pull away from each other to turn their attention to Niall, amused smiles playing at their lips. “But you,” he breathes heavily, and Harry’s positive he ran up the stairs. “You already knew that,” he concludes. His hands rest themselves on his hips as he tries to catch his breath. His eyes meet the velvet box now laying on the ground next to their feet. “You proposed.” Niall motions to the box. Harry bites his lip and nods, trying to stifle a laugh. “I’m interrupting,” Niall sighs. He motions to the door behind him. “I’m gonna go.” He turns around and walks out, leaving Harry and Louis alone to make fun of him in peace.

 

A year and a half later at their wedding, Louis keeps his promise to Liam. He doesn’t run. He stays right where he’s meant to be. In Harry’s arms. Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> ok now leave me comments about how terrible this was thank u


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